


Rich and Strange

by Camorra



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: M/M, Making deals with devils, POV Second Person, Witch!Izaya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camorra/pseuds/Camorra
Summary: You've lived long enough to see all sorts of humans. But this one, this one you like.
Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Shiki Haruya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Rich and Strange

You have been told that you’re rather strange.

“Me?” you laugh, a hand to your chest, “I’m _quite_ sure I don’t know what you mean.”

But of course you know what they mean. You’re altogether not quite a _person_ anymore, let alone _human_ , so far removed from normal that strange doesn’t even begin to describe you.

Kine points a finger at you, on the verge of words. Changes his mind and puts it on top of his bald head.

“You can tell futures too, right?” he says at last, his hand dropping to his lap, finally getting to the real point of his visit, after a half hour of circling around the point. But it’s fine. Time is, after all, something you will never run out of.

“I can,” you say, spinning a lazy circle in your chair. On your desk is a second cup of tea, gently steaming, prepared for just this purpose. “For a price.”

Kine’s shoulders sag. “Fine. What ever it is, I’ll pay it, I just—”

“That’s bold of you.”

“What?”

You put a finger on your lip. “Accepting a price before you know what it even is. If I were lesser, I might take advantage of that.”

“You’re an honest man, Izaya,” Kine says. You snort a little. You’re neither of those things, but it’s adorable that he thinks so. That so many think so; it’s truly scary how much they trust you. You tilt the cup of the tea you hold, but it holds no answers for you. Funny that. The fates of the billions upon billions of humans yours to peruse, but never your own. Never anything when it involves you.

You think about asking Kine for the death of his daughter as payment, consider it as you tap the rim of your teacup with your nail. You decide against it, but only because the thought brings you no particular joy.

“A lock of hair,” you decide, “from your new lover.”

In his defense, Kine does not sputter or try for a denial, but the tips of his ears do go a marvelous shade of red. “Not cash?” he asks. “You always ask for cash.”

You wave a hand, like you’re trying to clear a fly from the air. “I ask from cash from the Awakusu-kai because they can fathom nothing more precious. But _you.”_ You lean forward in your chair. “You have never cared much for money, even though you used to think of it as a means to an end. No, you care for _people._ And you love your daughter and the woman you used to call your wife, but you’ve found a new sort of love, one you’re willing to upend your whole life for with—”

“Alright, alright,” Kine says, waving his hands, as if to ward off your words. You frown. You’re not particularly fond of being interrupted but it’s not an offense you’re willing to hold a grudge over. “I’ll get you your lock of hair.”

You smile. “Excellent.” You stand and hold out the second cup of tea, still hot as it was hours ago when you poured it. “Drink up.”

Kine cautiously approaches you, very different from his usual demeanor around you. You idly wonder why he chooses now to clue in, perhaps it’s your smile? You’ve been told that sometimes you show too many teeth. He takes the tea gingerly, as if he knows the cup is poisoned.

It’s not. Not that you hadn’t considered it, but decided against it. Kine might not be entertaining anymore, but the Awakusu-kai will be and it’s perhaps best not to step on their toes, for the moment. Humans. Even when they’re violently expelling a member for fucking the police chief, they can still be _so_ possessive.

Kine takes a cautious sip of his tea, still eyeing you warily.

“It’s good,” he says, begrudgingly.

“Thank you,” you say. You mastered the art of tea brewing back when it was a novel thing, used to impress the nobility at parties. And it’s certainly only gotten easier over the years. “Don’t be shy.” You take a pointed sip of your own teacup to demonstrate.

Kine seems to catch what you mean to do and drains his dry in one swig, handing you back the cup. “You’re not going to wait until I get the lock of hair?”

You cradle the cup in your hands delicately, careful not to upset the tea leaves, and slowly peer inside.

“Oh no,” you say absently, already peering deep into the cup. “ _You’re_ an honest man.”

The leaves whisper their secrets to you, and you have a fine-tuned ear to hear them.

“Well, I have some good news for you, Kine,” you say, setting the cup down with a clink on your desk. “Your love life will be vigorous. Lucky man, Kuzuhara is. Hmm, but it looks like your fertility is at an end, I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear. Your money luck isn’t bad, but I’m not sure I’d call it excellent either. You’ll get by, but you better get used to living on a policeman’s paycheck.”

Kine continues to look at you expectantly, clearly not daring to say more.

“Oh,” you say, checking your nails. They’re perfectly clean, as always. “The Awakusu-kai won’t be the death of you, which I think is what you really wanted to know.”

Kine’s shoulder’s slump, but then a thoughtful look passes his eyes. His brows draw down, and you notice for the first time that he doesn’t have eyebrows. Curious.

“Then what does kill me?”

You laugh. “What a good question. It weighs heavily on many minds, ne? The problem of human existence is that it will end, and the end is always nigh and unknown.” You smile. Kine tenses. “But I find that those who know are no more happy than those who don’t. Often more miserable. Such is human nature, no? To never be content with what one has. But I will tell you. You—”

“In that case, I’m sure I don’t want to know,” Kine says, sheepish, rubbing the top of his head. “I guess it should be enough for me to know that I live a long and happy life.” Kine smiles.

You smile back, certain that is not what you had said, but amused at the optimism. “It’s good to make peace with that with which we cannot change. Many struggle against such into an unhappy grave, I’ve seen it a hundred times.”

Kine smiles back, and from the looseness about his shoulders and the clarity in his eyes, you can tell he’s reassured.

“Good-bye, Izaya,” Kine says, as he heads towards your door. “I’ll be sure to bring your payment.”

You wave a hand. “Mail it. Easier for both of us, no?”

For some reason, that elicits a laugh, and he’s gone.

You wonder if that’s really the last you’ll see of Kine. If he’ll think of you in his detective business, taking grueling hours to uncover what you already know.

Well, only time will tell. And you’ve got plenty of that.


End file.
